


Navy Yard

by mtac_archivist



Category: NCIS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Drama, F/M, Future, Kinks, M/M, Not Episode Related, Not a Crossover, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-29
Updated: 2008-02-29
Packaged: 2019-03-02 06:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13312455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtac_archivist/pseuds/mtac_archivist
Summary: Strange cases unravel secrets from the past to shape the future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Jessi, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ MTAC](https://fanlore.org/wiki/MTAC), an archive of NCIS fanfiction which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after August 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator (and this work is still attached to the archivist account), please contact me using the e-mail address on [ the MTAC collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/mtac/profile)

  
Author's notes: Gibbs/Jen and DiNozzo/Ziva stay close to canon.  


* * *

Chapter One

Hours had passed since Lt. Colonel Hollis Mann had left, but Jethro remained in his basement for the rest of the evening and into the late morning. For a while he just stood there, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a cup of Jack Daniel’s in the other. He stood leaning against his desk full of tools he had been using on his boat, gazing aimlessly down at the sawdust-covered floor with a look of anguish upon his face.

He took a glance down to the two cups he had been holding, unsure of which to take a sip of next. Thinking back, he had taken a sip of the alcohol last, so he brought the coffee to his lips and took in the contents that had long since lost their warmth. 

‘Why must I always do this?’ seemed to be the single-most complicated question to have entered his mind in every occasion since Shannon. He always managed to get involved with someone he doesn’t necessarily like, much less love. He has always rushed into a relationship with women, when all he is interested in is merely their company.

Ever since he told Hollis that he wasn’t going to leave her that one day that she needed her pipes fixed, he began to realize what exactly he was doing. He didn’t love her. He didn’t necessarily want to marry her. He just enjoyed being with her. He came to realize that he was lying to her. He was giving her the impression that he loved her, when in fact he is in love with another.

Gibbs has only ever really been in love three times. The first, of course, was with his first wife Shannon. She hadn’t been his first girlfriend, or his first sexual experience, but she was his first love. And that love was stolen from him in a manner so brutal that his love was eternally solidified. At the time of her death, Gibbs felt he could never love any other being on the planet again. That emotion has thus never left his heart. He will always be in love with Shannon, but since has fallen for two others. 

His second and third loves were for co-workers. His second love was in 1999. He was working an undercover operation in Paris, France with his partner, Jenny Shepard. She had never known of his emotions, and he had made sure that she never discovered them. She had in fact admitted to him of her love, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he could trust her, or at least as of that time. So he merely quoted the Duke by saying “That’ll be the day.”

His third has been the most painful and increasingly difficult emotions he has experienced. He wasn’t entirely sure how he could deal with it when he first started working with this person, but he just goes about his business, somewhat ignoring his screaming emotions. 

It was rather awkward when he first realized his emotions towards Tony. He never really questioned his feelings, but just rather ignored them; he thought it best not to get involved with Tony. But the heart has a mind of its’ own, and he soon found himself in love with Tony.

Gibbs took to sanding his boat soon after finishing both his coffee and his bottle of Jack. Up and down, up and down. He continued sanding the boat, pondering how he’s handled his emotions and wondering where they would take him next.

He wondered if he would indeed end up with Tony, or if he was doomed to ruin every other relationship that stumbled across his path. He found these topics overrated whenever asked, but secretly enjoyed thinking about them in private. 

He glanced over at the clock which read 0234 hours in glistening red letters. He wondered if he should go to bed, but decided against it, after looking at the half-finished boat that stood erected in the middle of his basement. 

He began to think of a name for his latest project. He had gone through Shannon, Kelly, Jenny, and Dianne (regrettably after his last wife). He knew what he wanted to name his fifth boat, but wasn’t entirely sure that he ought to. In the past, he had decided on a name before ever beginning construction. He would work on it with that person in mind, as if by constructing the craft, he was accomplishing something with that person that he was unable to accomplish in reality.

Thinking back, Gibbs had thought of Tony while building this boat thus far, and thought it only fitting that he finished the boat as “Tony.” 

Then, of course, there was that woman that Tony had been seeing. He sure was glad not to have ever met her, because if he had, he would probably let something slip about his utter abhorrence of her.

One day he had found a picture of her under some files on Ziva’s desk which had a mustache drawn on her along with glasses and buck-teeth. It is now pinned up on Gibbs’ wall with three darts hanging from it. 

He had wondered what Ziva had against Heather, but decided it was better not to know. Ziva wasn’t really the type of person who would like Heather anyways, so he decided just to let it go. 

Zero three-hundred. Zero four-hundred. The hours passed by like the cups of coffee he drank, which would most likely explain his unwillingness to sleep. It was no surprise at all when the alarm rang at 0500 hours with Gibbs still standing there, withering away at his boat, taking the occasional sip of coffee, having completely ran out of Jack’s at around 0315 hours. 

He reluctantly set down the sander and walked the short distance to the digital clock that lied on his desk. He clicked the button which cut off the piercing beep that echoed across his basement. With one last, long sip of coffee, he turned and left the basement at a quick pace in the direction of the kitchen.

**********

‘Five o’clock. Grand. I wonder if Heather’s awake. Hmm. No. She isn’t moving. Damn, I wish she would wake up to turn off that freaking alarm. Oh, fine.’ Mornings were definitely not Anthony DiNozzo’s forte, especially Monday mornings. He leaned over his girlfriend placing his index finger over the “off” button. 

As the electronic beep ceased, he glanced down to Heather’s peaceful face that seemed quite content with the idea of never getting out of bed. Tony had always been annoyed that Heather never awoke with the alarm, but when he would just look down and see her face, all his anger and frustration would die away.

But as of late, things had been different. The kind of different that always brought Tony back to that all-too-familiar feeling of wanting nothing more than to run for the hills and never look back. 

The night previous to this most ideal moment of sincerity of genuine emotions that Tony so obviously exerted, Heather had finally revealed her true feelings about their relationship with the following words: “Where exactly is this relationship going?” And the only words circulating through Tony DiNozzo’s mind were: “Trip wire.”

Somewhere within that statement resides the utter disparity and tragedy that DiNozzo was never able to face when it came to relationships. His commitment issues, already practically non-existent, were somewhat troubled as of late. The loss of his long term relationship with Jeanne still served as a sore-spot on his heart and conscience. He truly had loved her. 

When the thoughts of Jeanne re-entered Tony’s mind, he did what he could to avoid them at whatever costs necessary. In this instant Tony merely pulled back the covers and slowly got out of bed, beginning to walk in the direction of the bathroom, not bothering to put on any clothes.

**********

Mondays were always terrible. Slow work. No interesting cases. Gibbs’ bad mood due to apparent lack of sleep. ‘Probably stayed up all night working on that damn boat,’ Tony thought as he typed away at a report that had recently been closed about a parrot that was stolen from a marine’s wife. ‘God, I hate Mondays.’

All he needed now was for Ziva to tell him that they had to attend another one of those sexual harassment conferences. ‘So help me God, if I have to attend another one of those, I’m transferring to the FBI!’

But the day wore on, slower, it seemed, than usual. It seemed like he had arrived hours ago when he discovered lunch was still three hours away. He thought of using the old “doctor’s appointment” excuse, but he thought that bit was getting a little old. Besides, he really did have a doctor’s appointment the next day. 

‘Ahh. Tuesday. So much better than Monday.’ Tony thought as the bliss idea of the day being over with consumed him. 

Finally, as if God Himself delivered DiNozzo from this hellish version of a Monday, Gibbs’ phone rang. The room seemed to stop entirely. Tony had no doubt in his mind that Ziva and McGee were bored out of their minds as well. They all looked to each other, then to Gibbs, as little kids wait to hear the verdict of their parents’ decision when asked to go to Disneyland. 

“Okay,” Gibbs said just before placing the phone back down on the receiver. “Okay, guys, we’ve got a missing Petty Officer named Carl Clark. DiNozzo. McGee. He was on a 48 hour leave while the Abraham Lincoln’s docked in Norfolk. You two go and check out his quarters and talk to his C.O. and crewmates. Ziva, you’re with me.”

“Great.” McGee stated with regret. 

“Ah, what’s wrong McGee? Sad you don’t get to spend the rest of the day behind that desk typing away at old reports about stolen parrots?” Tony asked utterly enthralled with the prospect that they get to leave the Navy Yard. 

“You got a stolen parrot? Damn, I’ve been working on a suspected computer glitch at a High School on base in Norfolk. Don’t talk to me about boredom. It’s just…you know how I am on aircraft carriers.” McGee admitted turning slightly red. 

“McBubbles, the Abraham Lincoln is a Destroyer, not an aircraft carrier. Ha! And you work for the Navy!” Tony said giggling slightly as the elevator doors closed on the two.

“Where are we going Gibbs?” Ziva questioned. 

“To interview Susanna Clark, Carl Clark’s mother.” Gibbs said pushing the button to call the elevator to his floor. 

“This should be interesting.” Ziva said sounding disappointed. 

“Well, if you’d rather go with Tony –” Gibbs began.

“I have, of course, always connected well with mothers of victims, so I shouldn’t have any problem with this.” Ziva corrected herself picking up the tone of agitation in Gibbs’ voice. 

**********

“We go up three decks, cross to the starboard side, then go down two decks.” Tony said quarrelling with McGee. 

“Okay. Whatever you say. I’m done arguing.” McGee said giving up. 

“I’m just saying, McGee, you get lost in Wal-Mart. Let alone an aircraft carrier.” Tony said defending himself.

“First of all Tony, I’m more of a Target-shopper. And secondly, the Abraham Lincoln is a destroyer.” He gladly stated with a smile across his face.

Tony’s eyes narrowed to two judgmental slits of hatred as he lifted his arm in the direction down the hallway. “Lead the way, seeing as you’re so familiar with Navy Destroyers.”

Slightly rolling his eyes, McGee took a few steps in the direction of what he hoped to God was the destination he desired, as the palm of DiNozzo’s hand slapped across the back of his head.

Doing his best to ignore DiNozzo’s abuse, the two traversed throughout the destroyer. All-in-all, McGee was happy that he wasn’t on an aircraft carrier, because then it would have taken him two hours to find Clark’s C.O. as opposed to the one hour it took. 

“Hello, I’m NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. We’re here regarding one of your sailors.” Tony greeted the commanding officer.

“Oh, hello. I’m Lt. Commander Hall. What can I do for NCIS?” Lt. Commander Hall stated extended a warm hand of welcome.

Tony shook the commanding officer’s hand before McGee ever got the opportunity. “You can tell us what you know about Petty Officer Clark.” 

“Oh, Clark? Well, he’s gotta be one my finest sailors. Punctual; today is the first time he’s ever missed a day. He’s very outspoken, obeys every command. He seems like he’s more fit for the Marines, but the Navy is lucky to have him.” Lt. Commander Hall explained to Tony and McGee. 

“Did he have any enemies or people he didn’t necessarily get along with?” McGee questioned the C.O.

“Not that I’m aware of. He does, however, visit the ships psychologist frequently. You might consider asking her more of the personal types of questions. Professionally, he’s the finest sailor I’ve met. But, I know very little of his personal life.” Lt. Commander Hall explained. “Now, you said ‘Did he have any enemies,’ implying past-tense. And seeing NCIS’s involvement after being MIA only a day, I can only draw the conclusion that he died?” Lt. Commander Hall asked looking thoroughly disappointed. 

“Uh…we have no conclusive evidence to prove or disprove such a statement.” McGee said.

“Thank God. I’d hate to see the Navy lose such a fine sailor.” Lt. Commander Hall continued. 

“Yes, um, could you direct Special Agent McGee to Petty Officer Clark’s bunk, and myself to this psychologist of whom you spoke?” Tony asked politely.

“Yes, of course.” Lt. Commander Hall replied before doing as Tony requested. 

 

**********

“Hi, uh, you’ve reached, uh, Tim. Please, uh, leave a message, and I’ll, uh, get back to you…BEEP.” Sounded McGee’s answering machine, to Abby’s dismay.

“Hi, McGee, it’s Abbs. I’m bored out of my mind here! You guys don’t have anything for me to do! Fibers? DNA? Fingerprints? Hell, I’ll even take on some computer hacking! C’mon, McGee! I gotta work!!!” And with that she hung up her phone.

“I want it to be officially known,” Abby said standing, beginning to converse with her mass-spectrometer and her computer, Burt tucked under her arm for assistance. “That it is not my fault you guys don’t have anything to do! Our job is done here! It is clear that anything to do with the Navy, NCIS, or the Marine Corps in the D.C. area is crime-free! Seeing as we are all sitting here, with nothing at all to do!” Abby rambled on to her equipment before trying McGee’s cell phone yet again.

**********

“Fourteen missed calls? Oh, it’s gotta be Abby. There’s never anything really interesting to do on Mondays is there? Well, I did find half of a receipt. That’ll give Abby something to do for the afternoon. What did you find out from the psychologist?” McGee added to Tony.

“Not much. He never met his dad. Apparently that has been bugging him lately. Other than that, the psychologist described Clark just as his commanding officer had. But the C.O. said it in a more admiring tone, whereas the psychologist called him borderline perfectionist and almost OCD worthy.” Tony said as the two made their way in the direction off of the ship.

“Hey Abbs,” McGee said after dialing Abby’s phone number. “Yeah, well I couldn’t answer it. I was interrogating a Lt. Commander and then searching Clark’s bunk. Well I had my phone on silent. Okay, okay. Yeah, I found something for you. A receipt. Yes, that’s all, why? Well, sorry, but that’s all there was. Alright. Yeah, I’ll bring you a Caf-Pow! Okay. Abby says ‘Hi’, Tony. Yeah, he says ‘Hi’ back. Alright, bye.” McGee conversed with Abby.

“You know, McGee, Abby is beginning to sound more and more like your wife every day.” Tony pointed out to a harassed McGee. 

“What?” McGee asked seemingly perplexed at the very idea. 

“Oh, c’mon, McGee! It’s Tony you’re talking to!” Tony said smiling widely at him.

“And that’s supposed to make me warm up to you and just spill out all my emotions?” McGee asked with a slight laugh in his voice. 

“So you do have emotions for Abby, then?” Tony said, the smirk on his face growing wider by the second. 

“That’s not what I said. Abby is a close friend and my ex. Yes, we dated, but that ended nearly four years ago. I’ve moved on.” McGee explained to Tony.

The two, along with the newly purchased Caf-Pow, returned to the Navy Yard to greet a relieved and thankful Abby.

**********

“Has your son been in the Navy long, Mrs. Clark?” Gibbs asked looking around the room at pictures of the young man he assumed was Carl Clark which resided on the mantle piece. 

Carl Clark was a man of about 26 years. He was rather tall, approximately two inches above six feet. He had short brown hair, and remarkably blue eyes. Gibbs lingered on, admiring the photos with a sense of familiarity encompassing him. Everywhere he looked he felt it. The mother, the son, even the house. 

The scent that lingered in the air reminded him of some past-time of his early years in the Marine Corps. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he felt he had some sort of connection with this house. He looked over to Ziva, who was also looking at the pictures for a moment before taking a glance back at Gibbs with a quizzical look stretched across her face. 

“Let’s see, about 8 and a half years now. Joined the day after his eighteenth birthday. He was still only a senior in high school. I believe he joined in August, 1999.” Mrs. Clark answered Gibbs’ question, refraining with difficulty from answering in a fifth different response.

The familiarity was killing Gibbs. He knew this woman from somewhere. ‘Where the hell do I know her from?’ Gibbs thought to himself feeling like it was a name on the tip of his tongue. Somewhere from many, many years ago; possibly before she even had a son. 

“What about the boy’s father? Is he involved in his life much?” Gibbs asked taking to glancing at the pictures yet again.

The woman seemed to have a great intake of breath at this statement, as if she came to the sudden realization of something that she had been thinking on. She closed her eyes and folded her hands, lowering her head giving her the look of someone praying. After only a moment, she opened her eyes and looked up to Gibbs with bloodshot eyes. A tear streamed down her cheek, to which she made no attempt to wipe away.

“Unfortunately not,” She finally replied. “Special Agent Gibbs, may I have a word with you in the kitchen…alone?” She inquired removing her gaze from Gibbs only to stand and readjust the order of pillows which lied across her couch.

“What you have to say can be said in front of my partner,” Gibbs reassured her.

Ziva was utterly flattered at this statement. For he had not referred to her as someone of inferiority, but as his partner; an equal; a counterpart. A smirk spread across her face as this thought manifested behind it. 

“I’m afraid what I have to tell you, Agent Gibbs, will have little effect towards your finding my son’s kidnapper. It is only a matter of personal necessity to which requires your attention.” Mrs. Clark explained as though through a riddle. 

With a quick glance to Ziva which may have been misread as a question of approval, but truly meant “I hope you understand,” Gibbs followed Mrs. Clark into the kitchen. The room was decorated much like Gibbs’ fourth wife, Dianne’s. Very neat, organized, and hardly ever used. 

“It pains me to see that you do not recognize me, Jethro. I do admit it took me a moment to realize who exactly you were. But upon your mentioning my son’s father, I immediately remembered.” Mrs. Clark explained with her back to Gibbs and her hands on the counter as if she was clinging for support. 

“It was Christmas, 1980. We met on a flight to London from JFK.” She began, and as if an old reel stored away in the back of his mind, Gibbs began to recall that last weekend of 1980.

 

-To Be Continued-


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“What did she tell you in the kitchen?” Ziva questioned, mysteriously glancing at Gibbs who sat in the driver’s seat of the sedan. 

They had been driving nearly fifteen minutes in the direction of the Navy Yard before a word was spoken between the two. Gibbs had remained in total silence due to the fact of what he had just learned. Anger, regret, and motivation coerced through his veins, causing him to nearly forget where he was and what exactly he was doing. The sound of Ziva’s voice caused him to give a slight jolt, as if awakened from complete meditation. 

Ziva, however, had spent the journey from the Clark residence in complete wonder. What did she tell Gibbs? What was making him so edgy? Why has he been so agitated lately?

After Ziva voiced her wonder, he decided to ignore it and took to turning on the radio. After finding a radio station of classical rock, he returned his full attention to driving. ‘How could she not tell me?’ A voice in Gibbs’ mind sounded. ‘Well, she probably couldn’t find you. You’re forgetting she didn’t even know your name!’ an opposing voice said. ‘But still…to spring that on me! What does she expect me to do now?!’ the first voice sounded. 

Fortunately, Gibbs was spared of further questions from Ziva when he received a call from Tony. “Hey, Boss. Clark’s C.O. said that Clark was an outstanding sailor and the psychologist thought he was borderline obsessive with his work and a perfectionist; not a bad trait in the C.O.’s eyes but the psychologist didn’t take it as lightly. And all we could find in his bunk that was even a little out of the ordinary was a receipt that looks like it was sent through the washing machine. Other than that, nothing was out of the ordinary.”

“You mean nothing other than a missing sailor?!” Gibbs shouted before hanging up on Tony. 

Picking up on Gibbs’ agitation, the feeling of pride that consumed Ziva earlier when he had referred to her as his partner had completely vanished. She began to feel like she had done something to contribute to his anxiety. ‘What was causing him to be so short with everyone? It couldn’t have just been what the woman had told him in the kitchen. He’s been acting off for the past few weeks!’ the thoughts sounded in Ziva’s mind.

It wasn’t like she had her own problems to worry about, much less Gibbs’. But Gibbs wasn’t one who usually showed his emotions to his co-workers. This was most unlike him. Yes, he was always a bit short with them all, particularly with Tony, but he was even snapping at Ziva like that now! Ziva suspected that there might be more than one contributor to this most recent explosion of anxiety expressed by Gibbs. Years of bottled-up emotions were now reaching the top of the jar, threateningly pulsating just before the inevitable explosion.

But then there were her own problems on her mind. She thought that by coming to NCIS she would be able to escape everything at Mossad, such as her father. They had never really gotten along with each other, but even the tiniest sense of love that she ever possessed for him was now permanently extinguished. Deputy Director David of Mossad. She certainly had a lot to live up to, but the prospect of having to shape her life around his reputation threatened her very career. She needed to escape it and hoped to God to do so by leaving the organization entirely.

Although nearly two years ago, it proved to be hopeless, even though she was now with a different agency, in a different country, she could never escape her father. When she was accused of being involved in the conspiracy involving the two FBI Agents that were killed in the bombing, the only agency that was even willing to be there for her was Mossad, the very one she wished only to escape. 

If it hadn’t been for Gibbs she would either still be on the run or possibly even in GITMO by now. She decided it was better not to linger on such topics but it proved to be inevitable. No matter how hard she tried not to be, Ziva David was a very pessimistic person, indeed.

Then there was the other problem that had been bothering her for nearly three years. The problem that had been living right in front of her face the whole time. In hindsight, she didn’t know how she has been able to bear it for so long. But the days wore on, and every day she could see her very own emotions for Tony growing evermore into love. 

It was all becoming too much for her to handle at that moment. She did all she could to hold in all that she was feeling – Gibbs’ random irritability, family problems, Tony problems and his ever-growing infatuation with that new girl, Heather. If she hadn’t been so swept up in her thoughts, she might have noticed a tear slide down the side of her face.

*********** 

“So what have you got Abbs?” Tony asked looking over Abby’s shoulder as she looked under a microscope. 

Without looking up from her microscope, Abby said audibly “Tony, please enlighten me on something. Why a receipt? What made you decide to bring a receipt in as evidence?” 

Tony stared at her, hoping that it didn’t all turn out to be nothing. “Uhm…Don’t ask me…it was all McGee. But my guess is…maybe Clark bought something exotic that we track down?”

“Clark didn’t buy it at all. Whatever McGee’s reasons were, they might have just led us to Carl Clark, or at least to his assailant.” Abby said pulling up the microscope on the computer. “Look.” She said grinning at Tony.

Tony walked closer to the plasma screen at the writing on the piece of paper that had been smeared by apparent laundry detergent. His eyes squinted as he tried to read the blurred letters upon the paper.

“And what exactly am I looking at?” Tony said turning away from the plasma glancing back at Abby.

“Hopefully, Clark’s kidnapper.” Abby said returning to her keyboard and typing in a few notes here and there which cleared the image enough for Tony to decipher what was written on the receipt. 

“It’s a credit card number. And the account is not register to Clark.” Abby said looking over at Tony.

“Who is it registered to?” Tony asked glancing at Abby.

With a typing for a few moments at the keyboard, she gave a slight jump, spun around, and snapped her fingers. “Abra-Kadabra!” 

Tony did not partake in Abby’s celebration, nor did he make any indication that Abby had in fact discovered who the account was registered to. The face that appeared across the plasma screen was one that Tony certainly did not expect to see. Without another word, Tony left the room.

**********

Gibbs walked down the orange hallways on the ground floor. Walking past Abby’s Lab, he entered the screening room of Interrogation Room 2. He looked through the glass upon the young girl’s face. It was a strange feeling. He certainly could see the distinct difference between her and her brother. 

“How long she been in there?” Gibbs asked the monitor. 

“Nearly two hours. She’s just been reading that book. Nothing else. Barely moved at all.” The monitor responded to Gibbs. 

Gibbs looked in at her for just a few more moments before walking back into the hallway and into the room across the two-way mirror. “Sierra Clark?” Gibbs asked as the young girl placed a copy of her book down upon the table. 

“Have you found my brother yet?” she asked looking extremely concerned. 

“No, not yet. But we are working extremely hard on finding him. What book is that you are reading?” Gibbs said to the girl, doing his best to console her, while still get some information out of her.

The girl looked as if she was about to burst into tears. But upon mention of her book, it seemed to lift her spirits just slightly. “The Importance of Being Earnest. It’s my favorite. It always cheers me up.” 

“Ah, I played Algernon in my tenth grade play.” Gibbs said with a slight smirk on his face. “Always thought I was a bit like him in real life.” 

“Really?” Sierra said beginning to smile. “Carl always thought he was like Algernon too. Our mother read us this story since we were little. We always used to pretend he was Algernon and I was Cecily. Of course he was a lot older than me. I must have been four, and he was about eleven or twelve. Gosh, he just loved to read. All the time he had a book with him.” 

“We’re going to find him. We are going find Carl.” Gibbs said reassuringly looking into Sierra’s eyes. “But in order to help me find him, I need you to tell me what happened last night.”

Sierra closed her eyes as a surge of tears erupted from her eyes. She emitted no sound, but merely shed a few tears in silence before she opened them again. Sierra then explained the entire ordeal of her brother’s kidnapping.

“We were just spending the evening together. It was his first leave in months. He’d been off in the Mediterranean for six months and he was only given 48 hours. He had to report back on base at 0600 hours tomorrow, so we decided we would catch up over dinner and movie.” Sierra began, looking Gibbs directly in the eyes. 

“There were these guys that were taunting him. Just these jackasses that he went to high school with a million years ago. He always used to deal with it, but this time it was different. And I don’t blame him! I mean all he wanted in high school was to get away from those guys! And he comes back after fighting for his country to visit his family and he has to take their shit! Pardon my language.” Sierra said beginning to get carried away in her own tangent. 

“What these men taunting him about?” Gibbs questioned. 

“Just dumb high school stuff that doesn’t even correlate to anything that was going on that night!” Sierra said as if trying her best not to delve further into the subject. 

“I don’t think ‘dumb high school stuff’ will suffice when I fill out my report.” Gibbs said trying his best to get what he could out of Sierra.

“Look, I can’t say. I don’t want to…to jeopardize his career. I mean, you’re a marine. This…this just isn’t pertinent to the case.” Sierra said with one last defense.   
“Allow me to decide that.” Gibbs pressed.

“Off the record?” Sierra said, no longer looking up into Gibbs’ gaze. 

Gibbs got out of his chair, motioned for the monitor to cut the audio and video and sat back down with Sierra. “Off the record.”

Sierra explained the entire confrontation with the men that were taunting him. Gibbs listened intently throughout the entire explanation, his mind focused intently on Sierra’s words. 

“So, you see why I couldn’t tell you.” Sierra finished her explanation.

“It is noble of you to protect your brother’s reputation.” Gibbs said admiringly. “What happened after that?” 

“Well, the guys that were giving him a hard time were freaked out, and they just ran off. One of them might have gotten a better look at the person that took Carl. I was knocked to the ground and couldn’t see anything.” Sierra explained.

“Can I have the name of these men?” Gibbs said handing Sierra a notepad and paper.

Sierra glanced down at the paper and then back up to Gibbs. The mental debate that she went through seemed to take a heavy toll on her. But eventually, she took the pen in her hand and listed off five men.

**********

“Hey, Abby. Where’s Tony?” McGee asked walking into Abby’s Lab.

“Don’t ask me. I told him the results of some rather interesting evidence…speaking of which, please tell me why you thought half of a receipt would make interesting evidence?” Abby queried. 

“Outstanding investigative intuition?” McGee said sounding slightly uncertain of his own answer.

“Anyways, you might go and check in autopsy. Tony might be down there.” Abby said returning to her computer. 

Just as McGee left to continue his search for Tony, Ziva entered Abby’s Lab. “Hello, Abby.” Ziva said sounding very uncertain of herself. 

“Hey.” Abby said, turning slightly just grasp a glance of Ziva before turning back to her computer and typing away.

“Listen, Abby. I was…I was hoping that we could….talk.” Ziva said inching closer and closer to Abby and her computer. 

“Talk?” Abby said completely abandoning her game of Minesweeper. 

“Yes. Talk.” Ziva said affirmingly.

Abby looked questioningly at Ziva before her face lit up. “Oh! You mean…talk?”

“Yes.” Ziva said with a slight exhale of relief. 

“Well, yeah! I’m not doing anything right now. I mean Tony just decides to go disappear…” Abby began but was soon cut off by a persistent Ziva. 

“Ugh, do not mention that man to me.” Ziva said walking over and fiddling with a few evidence vials. 

“What? What do you have against Tony?” Abby asked appalled by Ziva’s actions.

“What do I have against Tony? Well we can start with the fact that he never appreciates anything any of us do! And he just goes about ignoring us all, excluding us from certain…activities.” Ziva ranted flinging her arms about.

“Ziva, what are you talking about?” Abby asked squinting her eyes, trying to understand what Ziva was trying to tell her. 

Ziva motioned her hands and said “C’mon, Abby!” 

“Oh! You…you…for Tony?” Abby said jumping up slightly.

“Yes!” Ziva said relieved she didn’t have to say it aloud. 

“Aw, Ziva.” Abby said walking forward and giving her a hug. “Don’t feel too bad. I mean. At least you’re not in love with McGee.”

“Aha! Yeah. Like that’ll…wait.” Ziva began just as a thought hit her. “You don’t…?” 

Abby merely nodded her head. “Aw, Abby.” Ziva said as the two grasped onto each other, bonding for the very first time in the three years they had been working together. 

“But it’s not like I stand any chance with Tony! I mean, first there was Jeanne, and now there’s Heather, and…” Ziva began.

“Wait. Heather?” Abby asked as though another, more pressing thought just hit her. Abby walked over to her computer and pulled up the AFIS search result. “Not this Heather?” Abby indicated the photo of Heather Harp, the owner of the receipt in Clark’s bunk.

“Yes. That is the annoying, little…” Ziva began motioning her hands in the shape of a ring. 

“Oh my God! Ziva! This is the owner of the credit card that was printed on the receipt! Tony must have gone after Heather himself!” Abby shouted just as Gibbs entered the room. 

“Did I miss something?” Gibbs asked holding his coffee in one hand and a Caf-Pow! in the other. 

“Gibbs! No time for Caf-Pow!’s! Tony went after his girlfriend because she just became our prime suspect in the case!” Abby shouted at Gibbs, ushering him and Ziva to the elevator.

Having tracked Tony’s cell phone in record time, the team prepared to set off to Tony’s apartment – the location his phone was tracked to. “Ziva, McGee, you two get the car and bring it around. I need to go to MTAC for a moment.” Gibbs dictated as he ran up the stairs to the Director’s office. 

Having given retinal identification, Gibbs entered the Multiple Threat Alert Center to find the Director sitting in her normal spot in front of the projection screen. “Director, we have a slight problem.”

**********

Ziva peered over the window sill into Tony’s living room. The sight was a disaster. Furniture was everywhere, broken glass across the floor, and not to mention the form of a lifeless body sprawled across the floor. Ziva held her breath, hoping to God it wasn’t Tony that lied there.

“Got it.” Gibbs said after he successfully picked the lock into his house. 

Holding her gun firmly, Ziva entered the room, checking down the hallway in front of her, then the kitchen to her left. Nobody was there. She proceeded on to the living room. Nobody was there either…except for the body lying on the ground. Her gun still raised, she glanced down at the young man. 

“Gibbs!” Ziva said calling Gibbs over. Ziva finally saw it. What the woman had said to Gibbs in the kitchen. What had been bothering him all day. It still didn’t explain what has been bothering him for the past month, but this was just one more piece of the puzzle. 

Looking up at Gibbs, Ziva stated matter-of-factly, “He is your son isn’t he?”

**********

“You have not been answering my questions, Special Agent DiNozzo,” came the woman’s voice yet again. 

Tony did his best attempts to wriggle free from the ropes that bound him to a chair as well as the blindfold over his face. He heard voices echoing off the walls of a large room. He was definitely in a garage of some sort. The air had a slight chill to it, as if somebody had left the air conditioner going for days and days. 

“I will ask again: What is your relationship with Mossad Officer Ziva David?” The woman asked for the fourth time.

Tony found this line of questioning extremely odd. ‘Why does she want to know about Ziva? What is so special about Ziva? Unless…” Tony’s thoughts argued.

“Why does Ziva interest you?” Tony asked, finally giving up on freeing himself.

“I am asking the questions here!” The woman shouted at Tony.

That tone reminded Tony of something. He had heard that voice somewhere before…but Tony just couldn’t remember where from. 

“Who are you?” Tony asked quietly.

There was a long period of silence on the woman’s end before she leaned forward and slid the blindfold off of Tony’s face. 

Tony’s pupils widened, attempting to adjust to the dark atmosphere as he glared up at the woman standing in front of him. Her unmistakeably brown, wavy hair and that same smirk that he had seen every day for two years brought him back in an instant. “Hey, Tony.”

“Kate?”

-To Be Continued-


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Gibbs stood in front of the hospital bed, gazing down at his son. He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed over the course of one day. Earlier that morning he had been sanding a boat in his basement, with the only concern that he had was that of Tony. Then he finds out he has a son, Tony is kidnapped, and then his son is in a coma. 

Whenever Gibbs went through a change in his life, it was never just one thing that changed over a gradual period of time. It was always several events that spanned over a short period of time. 

“Gibbs,” Ziva said walking into the hospital room. Gibbs merely disregarded Ziva’s presence, still staring down upon his sleeping son. “Gibbs, I just wanted to say…” Ziva began but lost her momentum mid-sentence. “I just wanted to say, I’m sorry.” And without expecting any kind of response, Ziva left the room for Gibbs to be alone with his son.

**********

Ziva exited the elevator on the second floor and headed directly towards her desk. She took her seat and glanced over at Gibbs’ empty desk. She couldn’t imagine what he was going through at that moment. She imagined it was similar to that of what she felt standing over Ari’s body. But Ari had deserved his death. Clark did not deserve to be in a coma. 

Ziva then spread her gaze over Tony’s empty desk. For the first time in a very long time, Ziva closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed mainly for Gibbs and Tony, but left a slight bit of it for herself. She prayed that she would have the strength to carry on this mission without Gibbs or Tony. McGee was obviously left in charge with Tony and Gibbs gone, but she knew that a certain amount of responsibility would be left to her. 

“McGee,” she said, opening her eyes and standing up to face the NCIS agent across the room. “Look over Gibbs’ interview tapes and notes for Sierra Clark. Find out all you can about what happened that night. I want to know where they were, what kind of car he was thrown into. Everything.” Ziva said affirmingly. 

“O….k…” McGee said looking taken aback by Ziva’s sudden assume of command. “But, um, where are you going?” he asked as Ziva made her way to the back elevator in a pace he had never seen her make. 

“Abby’s.” Ziva said audibly as she rounded the corner and entered the elevator.  
“Abby, what are the results of the blood analysis at Tony’s apartment?” Ziva asked before acknowledging anything that had gone on earlier that day.

Abby looked at Ziva gravely before replying. “The blood on the floor surrounding Clark’s body was in fact Carl Clark’s blood.” Abby said with an ascending voice. “Unfortunately, however” Abby began, handing Ziva the document stating Abby’s results, “the blood on the sofa and doorknob was…Tony’s.”

Ziva closed her eyes for a second time, this time looking upward. A few moments later, she looked back at Abby before saying the words, “I’m sure he’s fine, Abby.” 

“Ziva,” Abby said, her eyes beginning to tear up. Abby fell forward into Ziva’s arms, crying freely. Ziva wrapped her arms around Abby, doing her best to comfort her. “Abby?” Ziva said after a thought had struck her. “Did you find any record on Heather Harp?”

Abby lifted herself out of Ziva’s grasp and wiped her black tears from her cheeks. “No, actually,” Abby replied, a hint of questioning in her tone, “there was hardly any record of her at all.” 

“Hmm.” Ziva thought aloud. “Abby, could you run her photo through the FBI, CIA, everything.” 

 

“Everything?” Abby said, sounding more astounded than she ever had in her life. 

“Everything,” Ziva replied before turning to leave the room and head back up to the squad room. She gazed out of the window across the Anacostia. Night had fallen several hours ago. Ziva looked down at her watch which read nearly 0200 hours. She gave a stifled yawn before going back to her desk. 

She glanced over at McGee watching his computer screen intently with headphones dangling from the side of his head. Ziva felt helpless. Never before had she just sat around waiting for everyone else to do all the work. She didn’t know if she could handle Gibbs’ job full-time like this. But she had no other choice but to wait. Wait for the decisions that would ultimately decide whether or not Tony lived.

**********

Gibbs’ blanket slipped off his knee with a soft “thump” against the linoleum tile that covered the hospital floor. A beam of light shining through a crack in the blinds shimmered through Gibbs’ ruffled hair, highlighting his gray hairs into a golden glimmer of light. A nurse trudged by Carl’s room lazily pushing a medicine cart vociferously by. The sound equivalent to a rhinoceros stampede awoke Gibbs from his restless sleep in the chair by his son’s hospital bed. 

Gibbs brushed his left hand through his hair as he glanced down to his right wrist to his watch which read 0614 hours. He immediately looked at Carl, who was still deep within his coma. Gibbs let out a sigh of disappointment, before heading into the head. Gibbs washed cupped a handful of water and splashed it over his face. 

He looked up into the mirror to get a better look at the damage sleeping in a hospital always caused him. Dark circles resided under his lethargic eyes. Gray stubble poked out of nearly every pore on his face. His normally gleaming blue eyes drooped with despair. But that was not the cause of a night spent in the hospital. Recent events were beginning to take their toll on Gibbs.

After staring into his reflection for a few moments, his phone began to ring from the other room. He stole away from his reflection and walked groggily into the other room.

“Gibbs,” he said flipping open is phone. 

“Boss?” came DiNozzo’s voice from the other end. 

“Tony? Tony, where are you?” Gibbs said nearly shouting with excitement. ‘He’s alive. Tony’s alive. Everything is going to be o.k.” Gibbs was about to erupt with joy.

“Boss, I don’t have much time. I need you to go to Warehouse 57 down by the pier. Don’t ask questions. Just go.” DiNozzo said sounding very rushed.

“Alright, Tony, but…” Gibbs began but was interrupted by a soft clicking noise on the other end. “DiNozzo? DiNozzo? Tony? Are you there Tony?” Gibbs said shouting into the phone, but Tony had already hung up. “God Damnit!” Gibbs said finally giving up and hanging up.

Gibbs grabbed his coat and put it on as fast as he could. He was about to run out of the room at full speed, but stopped at the threshold. He walked over to his son and placed his hand on Carl’s forehead. “I’m going to find the people that did this to you.” Gibbs said to his unconscious son. With one last glance, Gibbs ran out of the room and down to his car as fast as his body would allow him. 

**********

“Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep…” rang the alert from Abby’s computer. Abby lay face down on her desk, sound asleep. The computer had been beeping for only thirty seconds, when Ziva, on her regular round, entered from the elevator just outside Abby’s Lab.

“Abby?” Ziva said seeing Abby sound asleep and snoring. 

“Shut up, Elf Lord!” Abby shouted, as she lifted her head with only her left eye open, mascara smeared all over her face. “Wha-?” She said looking around trying to figure out where she was. “Oh!” she said looking up at the computer. “Ziva! Ziva!” Abby shouted turning around and nearly running into Ziva herself. “Oh, you’re…already…” Abby said jumping back, slightly startled. 

“What did you find, Abby?” Ziva asked, feeling slightly irate. 

“Oh my….Heather. Her real name is Rivka Koncheva.” Abby said after reading her computer screen. She turned back to face Ziva, an extremely grave look upon her face. “And she’s an Al’Qaida terrorist.” Abby said, with an extreme look of worry upon her face.

Ziva left, at a running pace, up to McGee’s desk and slammed her wrists down as hard as she could upon the stainless steel. “Tell me you have something McGee!” She shouted into his face, making McGee nearly fall out of his chair. 

“Oh, um, well, I have been using a geometric matrix to map out...” McGee began stammering over his words.

“For once in your life, McGee, get to the point!” Ziva shouted, inching her face closer and closer to his nose. 

“Not at the moment…” McGee said, and was relieved to see Ziva back off. He was, however, slightly worried when he saw her run to the front elevators. He decided it was best just get back to his work. 

Ziva dialed Gibbs’ phone number several times, none of which did he answer. Ziva then decided to call McGee – the most simplistic solution. “McGee! I need you track down Gibbs’ cell. Now.” She said quickly, having run out of patience hours ago. 

Ziva exited the elevator into the evidence garage, and walked around the corner to the parking lot waiting for McGee’s answer. “Today, McGee.” Ziva said impatiently as she got into the sedan. 

“Got it. He’s at the pier. Looks like…Warehouse 57.” McGee said, and without another word, Ziva hung up the phone and stepped on the gas pedal.

**********

Gibbs was familiar with this area. He had been there before on several occasions. Not just for work, but he also spent some evenings here. Just watching the sun set, reading a book. Whatever he felt like doing, really. He drove past the warehouses, not sure what to expect when he reached warehouse 57. 

He rounded the last corner before he would reach warehouse 57. He squinted his eyes to enable him to see down the path better. Tony stood, alone, just in front of warehouse 57. Suspicious of everything, Gibbs proceeded, glancing up at the walls of the buildings, instinctively checking for snipers or any other assailants of that sort. Seeing no obvious opposition, Gibbs got out of his car just in front of Tony. 

“Hey, Boss. Don’t worry. Just come inside for a minute. It’s safe.” Tony said to Gibbs, trying his best to reassure him. 

Gibbs was really beginning to feel nervous. Not only was Tony acting completely awkward, considering he was just kidnapped, but Tony also looked like he had some sort of physically ailments. “You o.k. Tony?” Gibbs asked making sure that Tony wasn’t in any sort of pain.

“Yeah, boss. I’m fine. Don’t worry bout me.” Tony replied, brushing off any sort insinuation that Gibbs had been giving. 

Trusting Tony, Gibbs followed him into the warehouse. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark before he was able to see everything inside. The entire garage was empty except for a group of people in the middle, with white boards and bulletin boards all around them. 

Tony shouted out to the rest, “Hey, guys! He’s here!” and they all turned to face Tony and Gibbs. Three men, with ailments resembling that of Tony’s, walked up to Gibbs and greeted him, each of them introducing themselves. “Bob Wilson, Jack Smith, and Larry Winston.” 

“And then, of course,” Tony said gesturing to one more figure that still stood by the bulletin board. “The brains of the operation…” and with those words the figure revealed itself with a gasp of frustration.

“Oh! Now I’m the brains of the operation? Ten minutes ago I was the evil, inconsiderate bitch that made everyone believe that she was dead for three and a half years!” Kate said emerging from behind a heap of notes. 

Gibbs’ heart skipped a beat at the sight. “Kate?” he said blinking as if his eyes were playing a trick on him. 

“It’s actually quite an interesting story,” Bob said with a smirk across his face. 

“O.k. Somebody please tell me what’s going on!” Gibbs shouted to everyone. 

“Look, Gibbs. Sit down.” Kate said offering up a chair. 

**********

Ziva sped down the streets of Washington, D.C. as fast she could. A light ahead of her turned red and something within her told her to stop where she was. She felt like she was needed somewhere other than the pier. She immediately picked up her phone and called McGee. “Change of plans. I’m going back to DiNozzo’s apartment. Meet me there, McGee.”

“But-?” McGee started sounded utterly bewildered.

“Don’t ask questions, McGee. Just do it…please.” She added getting the feeling she was beginning to sound a lot like Gibbs. 

She immediately turned the car around, cutting off a minivan causing it to crash into a tree, before accelerating up to seventy-five miles per hour again.

**********

“So what you’re telling me is,” Tony said, resting his chin upon his right arm, trying to wrap his mind around the entire concept, “the CIA faked your death because they hired you to take out an Al’Qaida cell in Afghanistan. But they needed them to think you were dead, and so they hired Ari Hasswari to pretend to be your killer, even though he really was a terrorist, so there was no harm in allowing Ziva to kill him, just as they had planned all along?” Tony said more as a question.

“Basically,” Kate said, feeling slight proud of Tony for finally understanding it. “But that was just the beginning,” Kate continued, “We followed the Al’Qaida cell around in Afghanistan for a year before they just disappeared.” Kate said, complete with hand gestures.

“Disappeared?” Tony asked, a look of confusion on his face again.

Giving up on Tony, Kate turned to Gibbs and continued her story while looking at Gibbs. “Anyways, we searched all over the world for the cell for three months before anything popped up. We intercepted a message…to Bin Laden from the cell.” Kate said sounding enthralled by the memory. “It said that their cell was in place in Washington, D.C. and they were awaiting his orders.”

Gibbs gave a smirk and decided against saying aloud ‘I’m so proud of you, Kate.’ Now was not the time, nor place to praise Kate for her achievements. A time for that would come.

“So, we packed up and headed back towards the states, and we began searching for the cell. Here’s where things went hinky.” Kate continued her anecdote, “We were searching for the terrorists when we found one of them interact with Carl Clark the day he got back from the Med. We thought he might be involved with the terrorists by passing on information to them. So we took affirmative action and decided we needed to interrogate Clark.” 

“YOU KIDNAPPED CARL?” Gibbs shouted at Kate, anger ridden all over his face.

“It’s not what you think, Gibbs!” Kate tried to reassure Gibbs, but she could tell she was far from accomplishing such a task.

“Oh yeah?! Then what the hell is it?” Gibbs shouted, still angrier than she had ever seen him.

“We interrogated him, and after a day we realized he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and we were going to release him at Tony’s apartment, because we knew that he would fall into the right hands there. But,” Kate said lowering her eyes from Gibbs’. “There was a leak about our mission, and the cell intercepted us at Tony’s apartment, just as Tony showed up. Tony had no idea what was going on, so Bob here put a bag over his head and threw him in our car before he got beat up too bad. We had also heard a murmur a couple years ago that made us suspect Ziva was a terrorist, but Tony debunked that rumor. Anyways, I lost two of my agents and Clark was in pretty bad shape.”

“So you decided to just leave him there? If we hadn’t found him there, who knows what would’ve happened to him!” Gibbs shouted.

“Don’t you see, Gibbs? We made sure that you went there for him. We left Tony’s cell at his apartment because we knew you’d be looking for him. So we mainly cleaned up the crime scene as best we could and left.” Kate explained.

“If my son dies…” Gibbs began to threaten Kate.

“Your son?” Kate whispered under her breath.

“My son!” Gibbs shouted, feeling for the first time in years as if he was on the verge of tears. 

“Gibbs, I…I didn’t know.” Kate tried to say, but ended up just closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“I just…” Gibbs began after he had had a moment to calm down. “I just think it would be best if we went back to the office,” Gibbs finished, looking down at the ground. 

**********

Ziva looked around the apartment as if there was something she was missing. She was looking at DiNozzo’s DVD collection when she finally realized what was different: everything was too clean. Somebody had cleaned Tony’s apartment. ‘But why? And where the hell is McGee?’ Ziva thought looking out the window to see if the sedan was pulling up.

“Um, excuse me? Who are you?” came a woman’s voice with a slight Russian accent from the doorway. 

Ziva’s heart skipped a beat, and she turned to face the woman. Ziva immediately recognized her. It was the same girl that had appeared on Abby’s computer screen. It was the same girl that Tony had a picture of that Ziva had drawn a mustache on. “Rivka Koncheva?” Ziva said aloud, unable to contain herself. 

Before Ziva could say another word, before Ziva could have reacted in any way, before Ziva could have another worldly thought, Rivka pulled a gun out of her bag, aimed the gun directly at Ziva’s heart, and pulled the trigger.

-To Be Continued-


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

“Well it certainly doesn’t look much different,” Kate said looking around the squad room. Kate had merely set her bag down next to her old desk before Abby ran across the room screaming. 

“KATE!!!” She said before plowing into her, tears falling down her face. “Oh my God, KATE! I missed you so much!” Abby said beginning to sob hysterically. Kate didn’t know what to do other than just pat Abby on the back. 

“It’s good to see you too, Abby. I missed you.” She said smiling brightly.

Abby pulled back from Kate’s grasp for a moment to observe her. There were a few noticeable scars on her arms, and even a few on her face. “The glory of being in the Middle East for 2 and half years,” Kate said, as if she had read Abby’s mind. 

“Where’s Ziva and McGee?” Gibbs asked as he rounded the corner, walking in the direction of his desk. 

“Oh, um. I’m not sure,” Abby said trying to remember what exactly happened. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the ding of the elevators from which Gibbs, Tony, and Kate had just entered through. 

The doors slid open, casting a silvery light on the floor in front of them. McGee stepped out of the elevator briskly, looking directly at the team. While the elevator doors closed behind him, he looked at each of them, pausing for a moment at Kate. “Kate?” he said, surprise sounding through his voice. 

McGee began walking closer to the team when Gibbs finally asked, “Where’s Ziva?” 

McGee began to open his mouth, but was interrupted by the ding of the elevators once again. Ziva, nearly running out of the elevators, shouted to the entire room “Rivka Koncheva is dead.” Her face and attitude completely stern, she pushed past all of them and threw her belongs, including a bullet-proof vest which contained a bullet in it, right on her desk. 

Her mind was so preoccupied that she hardly noticed that Gibbs, Tony, and Kate were there. She merely moved her head in a circular motion, making a popping noise in her neck. The rest of the team stared at Ziva, waiting to see how long it would take her to realize that everyone was back. “I need coffee,” she said as she walked back to the elevators. 

“We’re gone for an afternoon, and she’s already turned into you, boss,” Tony said, his eyes wide in an attempt to study the “new Ziva”. 

**********

McGee paced up and down the hallways, breathing heavily, and staring intently at the intricately designed carpet. Up and down. Up and down. He paced the hallway debating whether or not he was about to make the right decision. He knew he wanted to do it. Hell, he’d wanted to do four five years. He just never thought he would actually do it.

‘C’mon Tim. You can do this.” He thought in an attempt to give himself a pep-talk. ‘You’re just…you know…confessing your love to the most wonderfully, amazing, beautiful woman you’ve ever met.’ McGee said, beginning to get discouraged once again. 

This was, without a doubt, the most difficult thing he’s ever tried to talk himself into doing. This wasn’t the first time he’d paced around Abby’s Lab. It was, in fact, steadily becoming a bi-weekly ritual. ‘O.k. Tim. Think back to what Johnny the Ogre said,’ McGee racked his brain trying to recall his “safe words”.

‘You’re a ferocious Elf Lord, lion-heart, with the wits of a wizard and strength of a warlock.’ And with that, McGee was prepared to face any adversary, be it a Grendel, the water demon, or the prospect of sweeping the woman of his dreams off her feet. 

He confidently entered Abby’s Lab. “Oh Hey, McGee.” She said smiling brightly. McGee walked straight up to her, grabbed her from the back of the head and her side, dipped her, and placed a long, enduring kiss on her lips.

“Whoa, McGee,” Abby sighed, not believing what was happening.

“I just wanted to tell you Abby,” McGee said staring dreamily into her eyes. “That you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, and I love you,” and with that McGee kissed Abby again. 

Abby wrapped her arms around McGee’s head, glad that after all this time he was finally able to admit it. The two stood up straight, looking intently into the other’s eyes. “I love you too, McGee” Abby finally admitted to him. The two embraced one another, connected in a powerful, deep kiss. 

**********

Gibbs knocked on the stainless steel door three times, awaiting Jenny’s reply. “Enter,” came Jenny’s voice from the other side of the door. 

Gibbs placed his hand on the doorknob, giving it a soft twist, and entered the dimly lit room. Gibbs looked to the blinds on the window and noticed that they were drawn. “Light sleep last night, Director?” Gibbs asked taking a seat in front of Jenny. 

“I guess you could say that,” she said removing her glasses and rubbing her already red eyes. “I was up all not on a teleconference in MTAC with the Secretary of the Navy. They’re all up in arms about Agent Todd’s undercover mission. Apparently somebody forgot to inform him.” 

“That’s how the CIA works,” Gibbs said in an ascending voice. “Would you like the good news first or bad news?”

Jenny rested her head upon the desk and mumbled, “Good news,” without lifting her head to meet Gibbs’ gaze. 

“Ziva caught Rivka Koncheva,” Gibbs said with the all-too-familiar smirk upon his face.

Jenny immediately lifted her head, her mascara slightly smeared, “And the Al’Qaida cell?” she asked eagerly.

“That’s the bad news,” Gibbs replied with a tilt of his head. 

Jenny sighed and placed her head back on her desk, “Any news concerning the whereabouts of this cell?” 

“I have Tony and Kate working on it,” Gibbs replied softly. 

“No, Gibbs.” Jenny said, a hint of demand in her voice, “You get your entire team working on it, now!” Jenny ordered Gibbs.

“What’s the rush, Director?” Gibbs chuckled as if the conversation was amusing. 

“That’s need to know,” Jenny replied, not meeting Gibbs’ gaze once again. 

Gibbs merely raised his eyebrows, giving Jen that same smirk he always had given to charm her.

Jenny exhaled before reaching to her side and grabbing a manila folder to which “Need To Know” was printed on the cover. “I suppose you are included in the ‘Need To Know’ category, and I’m sure I can convince Don, the Secretary of the Navy, to see it that way too.” 

Jenny went on to read the entire contents of the folder to Gibbs, to which described a suspected attack on the Navy port in Norfolk sometime Wednesday morning. “So that gives you about 12 hours to track down an Al’Qaida cell.” 

And with that, Gibbs got out of his chair and headed for the door, but not before Jenny called out to him. “Gibbs?’

Gibbs stopped, with his hand on the doorknob, and turned to face Jenny. “Yeah, Jen?”

“Do you ever think about Paris?” she asked him, looking as if they were chatting about the weather. 

“Paris?” Gibbs said, returning to his seat to face Jenny again. “Sometimes,” he replied, staring at a stack of pencils on her desk.

“Do you regret how things turned out?” She asked, once again with a tone of informality.

Gibbs stared intently at the pencils. In all honesty, he didn’t know the answer to that question. He had loved Jenny, he knew that much. But did he still love her? Or better yet, if they had stayed together, would he still be in love with her?

“I think you if you truly fall in love with somebody,” Gibbs finally began after thinking hard on his reply, “You never really fall out love.”

At this, Jenny raised her eyes and stared into Gibbs’ empty ones. His eyes had changed somehow since Paris. They weren’t the same. “Sometimes, though, people change. And they no longer are the person you were in love with.” The Director replied, a single tear falling down her cheek. 

Wiping it away, she quickly busied herself, with tidying up her desk. “Well, Jethro, I think it best for you to get to work on tracking down that Al’Qaida cell,” she said, her nose sniffling slightly, not daring to look into Gibbs’ eyes again.

Gibbs got out of his chair and walked to the door for a second time. This time he opened the door, and upon the threshold, he turned to face Jenny once more. He just looked into her eyes, and he too noticed that there was a change in them. “You’ve fallen in love again,” he merely stated.

“So have you, Jethro,” Jenny replied, writing a note down on a post-it.

Smirking, Gibbs took the remaining steps out of Jenny’s office and closed the door behind him.

**********

A slightly disheveled looking McGee approached Gibbs with a large smile on his face. “What? Would you like a hug McGee?” Gibbs said, slightly irritated with McGee.

“Oh, um, no boss,” McGee said, adopting a more professional look on his face. 

“Good, fix your tie,” Gibbs said, walking past McGee, slapping the back of his head as he passed. 

“Hey, boss, I tracked down Koncheva’s credit card records. Well, of course it was under the name Harp. But anyway,” McGee started, looking over a few pieces of paper he had in his hands.

“To the point, McGee,” Gibbs said, taking a seat in front of his desk.

“The point is, Koncheva only used her credit card in this fifteen-mile radius, so I’ve narrowed down the location of the cell, but it’s gonna take me a bit longer to get much further,” McGee said sounding rushed, having picked up on Gibbs’ irritability. 

“Boss, I’ll go and pick up surveillance tapes from these stores that Koncheva has been shopping at,” Tony said grabbing his equipment.

Close to an hour later, Tony returned to find that the team had made close to no progress to finding the cell. Tony passed out different tapes for each of them to go over. Halfway in the middle of watching the tapes, Ziva stopped hers and made a very valid point.

“Something’s not right, Gibbs,” Ziva said, getting up from her desk (Kate having adopted the desk next to McGee’s). “We found the receipt belonging to Heather Harp in Clark’s bunk. But, he was on a forty-eight hour leave. He hadn’t gone back to the Abraham Lincoln, nor had he made any contact with the cell until after Tony was taken by the CIA, so how did the receipt get there in the first place?”

“You know, you’re right,” Tony said with a quizzical look on his face. “How did the receipt get there?”

“Someone must have planted it there,” Kate suggested. Kate then received a phone call and was unable to elaborate on her theory. 

The team then offered up a wide variety of speculation before Kate demanded everybody’s attention. “Guys! That was Metro P.D.” She said with a grave look upon her face. “Susanna Clark has committed suicide,” she said tossing her cell phone on her desk. 

**********

Hours had passed since Kate had received the phone call from Metro P.D. and still the team had made very little progress. Ducky was asked to stay late to perform the autopsy on Susanna Clark. It wasn’t until 0200 hours on Wednesday that the body finally arrived. 

“Mr. Palmer, could you tie up my scrubs in the back, please? I find that I have quite a sore shoulder this evening,” Ducky asked politely. 

“Why, of course, Doctor.” Jimmy said merrily. 

“When is your graduation again, Jimmy?” Ducky said as Jimmy tied a knot in Ducky’s scrubs. 

“Um, that would be on Saturday.” Jimmy said tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling as he tried to recall the date.

“Yes, I remember when I received my Medical Degree. I was Valedictorian, of course, just as you are. I struggled and struggled to gather a speech together, but I was always known to be quite the procrastinator. I wrote the entire thing the night before! Haha!” Ducky mused as he and Jimmy unzipped the body bag to observe Susanna’s body. 

“Speech?” Jimmy asked. “There’s going…going to be a speech?” Jimmy seemed utterly perplexed at the idea.

“Well, of course there is! Valedictorians are always required to give a speech!” Ducky replied, insinuating that Jimmy was acting in an utterly absurd manner. 

The two quarreled on for several minutes, preparing Susanna for autopsy. Ducky, in honor of Jimmy’s graduation, allowed him to perform the autopsy under his supervision. Jimmy performed the Y-cut while he and Ducky continued to talk about Ducky’s early experience with Thailand’s fowl. 

“Yes, I studied the Grebe fowl more than any other. Yes, they are very common in shape and size to an American duck. Unlike some America ducks, however, they submerge their entire bodies underwater to search for food, not just their upper torso,” Ducky rambled on, barely paying attention to the surgery Jimmy was performing.

“Um, Doctor?” Jimmy asked, interjecting Ducky’s digression. 

“Why, yes Mr. Palmer, what is it?” Ducky questioned.

“Can you smell that?” he asked, a concerned look upon his face. 

“Why, Jimmy, you have been working here for many years now, I would expect you to be used to the smell of decomposition,” Ducky said with a slight chuckle. “Another thing I studied as a scholar was the population of the Whadjuk tribe in Western Australia,” 

“No, Doctor. This is different. Come smell this,” Jimmy demanded. 

“Oh, Alright,” Ducky said, walking around the table to the opposite side Jimmy was on. The two leaned forward at the same time and inhaled the scent of the rotting innards of Susanna Clark. 

“Oh my, Mr. Palmer,” Ducky said, his eyes wide with anxiety, “Good work, Mr. Palmer,” and with that, the two gentlemen walked across the room, into the elevator, and up three floors to Gibbs’ office. 

Ducky and Jimmy entered to see everybody in the room completely silent, straining their eyes on their computer screens, pouring over files, or watching the surveillance tapes from stores that Koncheva had been to in McGee’s fifteen mile radius. 

“I’m afraid, I have run into a slight problem,” Ducky said as everybody looked up at Ducky, complete with his autopsy attire. “Well, more formally, it was Mr. Palmer that noticed it,” Ducky corrected himself. “You see, Ms. Clark did not kill herself,” 

Ducky then glanced over at Jimmy, as if giving him permission to finish the statement. “She was poisoned.”

**********

His eyes strained to focus. ‘Where the hell am I?’ he asked himself. He could feel tubes in his arms, patches on his chest, and even a tube going down his throat. The room was dim, possibly even nighttime, which made even more difficult to realize what was going on. 

He felt something in his hand, and gripped it firmly. It made the sound of a buzzer, and shortly after he could barely make out the image of a silhouette entering the room, a blinding flash of light shining around it, as if it was on the threshold to heaven.

It was all so very confusing. The last thing he could remember was going to see a movie with his sister. Then he ran into those assholes. Giving him a hard time just because he’s gay. He had spent his entire life trying to flee them, only to come back to see his family and have to deal with it all over again. 

But, what happened after that? He couldn’t seem to remember. But then, it hit him. Those CIA agents, or FBI or whatever they were. They took him and questioned him. They were going to let him go. Why didn’t they? It was all still very fuzzy in his mind, but he thought he wouldn’t have too much trouble remembering if he could just sleep a little longer. The silhouette pulled on the tube that travelled down his throat. It was the most awkward sensation he had ever felt as the tube was pulled out of his throat.

The silhouette then spoke as it shined a bright light into his eyes which made him wince. It was a bit unclear, but he was fairly certain that it had said, “Mr. Clark? Are you awake?”

-To Be Concluded-


End file.
